Why Are the Young Made to Suffer
by HeartlandSeeker
Summary: A short shot at Medic Ralph Spina's thoughts as he shared a foxhole with Babe after Julian's death.


Why Are the Young Made to Suffer

short shot at what medic Ralph Spina was thinking as he shared a foxhole with a grieving Babe Heffron

The kid looked so pale, so thin. It always seemed to be that way with the replacements: they were fine when they came in, but after their first real battle they seemed to lose that spark they'd had. Like they had no will to go back to their life before the war once they'd seen death. It was tragic. He'd seen men die, been holding their guts in when they took that last long, shallow breath that meant the end was there. It just wasn't fair.

But this was different. Babe had watched as Julian, completely unaware of the danger, was shot in the neck by a German soldier. Babe had been the one reaching out a helping hand to the young replacement, screaming at him to stay still and focus only on his eyes. Babe had promised Julian they would come back for him while being dragged away. He had watched as Julian attempted to speak, feeble words forming at his lips while blood gushed from his throat, drowning his words.

Ralph had went back to the spot where Julian had died only to find a cold corpse laying in a crimson puddle of slightly melted snow, stripped of anything that could be used for warmth. "Looks like the Krauts are as bad off as we are," Ralph thought morbidly. He removed his entrenching tool and dug a small hole, all the while trying not to attract the attention of a German patrol or sniper. He put the body in the hole and quickly covered it back up after taking the few personal effects the Krauts had left. He shoved them into his medical bag and walked back to his foxhole, only to find he had a visitor.

"Hey Babe. How are ya?" Ralph asked. Babe just stared at the wall of the foxhole in silence. "I know you don't want to hear this, but there wasn't anything you could do. It's not your fault."

"Like hell it wasn't! I was supposed to look after him! I was supposed to be teaching him how to be a soldier! He told me he was scared to die, and I told him as long as I was around I wouldn't let him get hurt. So you tell me that it's not my fault. Like I'm gonna freakin' listen to you."

Babe's outburst didn't surprise Ralph. What did surprise him were the tears he saw rolling down his cheeks. Ralph slid a blanket over from where Doc had left it and put it over Babe's lap. "I'm here to talk to if you want. All ya gotta do is say something."

Babe just continued to stare at the muddy wall. Ralph just sat staring at his boots, wondering what he could do to help Babe. He didn't have any magic words like what Bill could tell him or stories that could cheer him up like George. All he had was a medical bag that was filled with the scant few medical supplies he had and Julian's personal effects. Ralph slowly turned his head and looked at Babe.

"I'm sorry."

Babe just turned his head to look at Ralph. "He trusted me."

"I know. "

"He wanted me to get his stuff. I left him there to die. I left him there for the damn Krauts to get their hands on his stuff." Babe turned back around to stare at the wall. He started to pull the blanket up around his shoulders.

"You cold?" Ralph knew it was a stupid and redundant question as it was freezing, but he couldn't help but ask. Babe just nodded in a numb sort of way. Ralph slid over closer to the young man and got under the blanket. He put his arm around Babe's shoulder and just looked across the foxhole.

Babe didn't say a word so Ralph let him just sit there. The medic just sat there and thought about what had happened. The young man from South Philly had tears rolling down his face leaving tracks in the grime on his face. His face was so pale, like he'd spent his life out of the sunlight. Babe looked like a shell of the man that had first sat down across from Bill that first day in England. Hollow, lifeless, and grim beyond his years. That was how Ralph would have described Babe.

But inside Ralph knew there was much more. Babe felt that he alone was responsible for Julian's death, and that he alone could have saved the replacement. Babe had shared with Ralph that Julian had admitted he was still a virgin. Ralph knew how it felt to lose someone that you felt responsible for. He'd held onto men's hands with one hand while staunching blood flow with the other. He knew what it felt like to blame yourself for everything that had happened, no matter what the circumstances. The feeling simply ate you up inside, left you with nothing but the gut wrenching guilt that you never thought would end.

Ralph glanced back at Babe, and saw hurt and anger in his eyes. Those eyes that were once bright and full of energy now were dull and lifeless. Ralph had started his career in the military thinking he would make great friends and have some new memories to share with his grandkids. Now, as he looked at Babe, who was no older than twenty-one, he finally understood. Nothing good would come from the war. The men who survived would be scarred for the rest of their lives, and would never be able to forget. Friends and memories didn't seem to be worth anything compared to the suffering and death he'd seen. Babe would be forever changed by what he had seen, and would never be able to forgive himself for leaving Julian. After that, Ralph could only think about one thing: why should the young have to suffer and remember everything? With that, Ralph reached into his medical bag and took out Julian's personal effects, laying them in Babe's lap. Babe just turned to look at him with those pain filled eyes and gave Ralph a small smile.


End file.
